


Recovery

by essencede



Series: Violetine and Clouis One-Shots/Short Stories [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Crying, F/M, Fluff, Hugs, Kissing, Mourning, Snuggling, calming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 00:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17991290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essencede/pseuds/essencede
Summary: "I'm so sorry," Clementine whimpers, tearing up at the sight. How could she let this happen?He wants to tell her it's okay, but when he goes to speak, it's all gibberish, nothing she can understand. Her eyebrows furrow as she tries to translate the words. She gets the sentiment, seeing the soft look in his shimmering eyes.





	Recovery

Freckles are dotted across his cheeks, no real pattern to them. His eyelashes brush up against his cheekbones, tears coating them, dripping and falling. He can't control the tears flowing from him. Horrific memories appear, making his chest ache and his heart race. He quivers at the memories, feeling like a child. He's reminded of the beginning of all this. So unsure, so terrified. He moves what's left of his tongue, more tears falling when nothing touches his teeth. The taste of blood still lingers as her gentle hands wipe away the copper liquid from his mouth and cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," Clementine whimpers, tearing up at the sight. How could she let this happen?

He wants to tell her it's okay, but when he goes to speak, it's all gibberish, nothing she can understand. Her eyebrows furrow as she tries to translate the words. She gets the sentiment, seeing the soft look in his shimmering eyes. 

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes again, dropping the dirty rag. Her hands cup his cheeks, studying each freckle and watching each tear drizzle down his cheeks. She wipes away the tears with her thumbs. "This shouldn't have happened."

He nods his head in agreement and then hangs his head. His body continues to shake with each cry. He leans into her, seeking comfort he's missed for what feels like months.

"I care about you so much, Lou. How could I let this happen?" She whimpers, feeling so disgusted with herself. So guilty. A split second decision destroyed his life. Her decision. It's her fault.

He wants to assure her it's not her fault. She didn't want this. She didn't cut out his tongue. He wants to sing to her, tell her everything is okay through his passion. He can't. It breaks him, sending more sobs out his mouth and into  the heavy air. 

"I'm here. It's okay," she tries to assure, trying not to cry. She has no right to. She didn't get her tongue cut out. 

They pull away, his fingers playing with her curls. His eyes show that he's somewhere else. She rests her hand on his arm, offering him comfort though her touch. Any touch. She hopes it helps, but she can't tell. 

He looks at her, mouthing "thank you". She flinches at the words. She doesn't deserve it. He sees the doubt in her and leans in. Their first kiss with him initiating. Clem leans in, understanding the action. She enjoys the contact, but she feels as if she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't deserve him. They pull away, him brushing strands of dark curls from her face. 

He looks to her, smiling as tears glisten in his eyes. She smiles, whimpering a little. She hangs her head. The strands of her fall back, undoing his work. 

"I won't let anything else happen to you," Clementine vows, looking into his eyes once again.

He nods his head, hoping things get better from here. Everyone's a mess, including these two. Things can only get better, being how fucking horrible they are.

"I'll get you paper, so you can write to me," she says quietly, standing up. He grabs her hand and shakes his head. "You sure?" She squints at him, concern in her eyes.

"Mhmm," he responds and she complies, sitting down with him on the bed again.

The two sit in silence, enjoying one another's presences as their crying stops. He holds Clem's hand, rubbing it with his thumb. She rests her head on his shoulder, sniffling. 

She's reminded of those she's lost in moments like these. She can't lose Louis too. She can't let him get hurt like this again. 

***

Louis carries around a few sheets of paper with him and a pencil. Clem remains by his side as he walks around the school, looking at how destroyed it is. They end up standing at the graveyard, hand in hand.

He stares at the graves, looking at Violet who sits by Sophie and Minnie's grave. Minnie died in the explosion. It hits Violet hard, making her distance herself from everyone. Clem looks to her, but can't seem to leave her place. She also respects that this is how Violet mourns, on her own. 

Louis pulls her hand, trying to show her what he wants. She follows his lead into the courtyard then into the music room.

He goes to the piano, writing down on the paper. Clem watches his hand quickly move.

'I can't sing, but that doesn't mean I still can't play music'

She smiles at the words and sits next to him. Her eyes find the carving, the heart with the first letters of their names in it. His eyes flick to it too before opening the piano, ready to play a song.

Clem watches as his fingers move, trained and natural. His eyes remain focused on the keys, as if Clem isn't there next to him. She nods her head to the song, enjoying the sound reach her ears. She guesses she will always admire the way he plays, something she hasn't seen in a long time. 

He then stops, letting his hands fall on the keys, letting the sound ring out longer than usual. She leans into him, looking up at this dark eyes. 

"Beautiful," she comments, unsure if she's complimenting himself or his playing. He quirks an eyebrow, asking the same question. Both, she decides. "You and your playing," she answers, looking at his freckles. 

Christ, she loves them. And that smile. She kisses his cheek, expressing her inner thoughts. He holds her chin with his hand and kisses her lips instead. He will always love touching her, feeling her warmth against his. The way their lips collide, cleanses his mind and pushes his pain away for a while. 

***

Louis lays in bed, flipping through a scrapbook, pictures of the kids cover the pages. He longs for these innocent times. He flinches at a picture of him singing with Minerva. Minerva and his singing are now dead. He sniffles, trying not to cry at the terrible thoughts in his mind. He despises how his heart aches. He touches the pages, looking at the innocent faces of himself and others. He doubts any of these wounds will heal. 

There's a knock at the door and then Clementine walks in. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens slightly. Her look softens and she walks over to him, quickly engulfing him in her warmth. His hands still tightly grip the book. She pulls away and glances at it.

"Oh. Oh, Lou," she says and frowns. 

She kisses his lips, trying to calm him and provide him with love. 

"I'm here, Lou," she says, resting her head against his chest as her body covers the book.

He nods his head, wishing he can speak. He wants to tell her he's okay, it just hurts seeing all of his dead friends, smiling many years ago. 

"I won't leave you," she promises, knowing how terrible it is to have people leave. She's lost many herself. 

He nods. She's one of the toughest people on this planet. He doesn't doubt she'll be alive a while longer. She won't die without a fight. 

They kiss again, lips colliding roughly. He tilts his head for her, grabbing her waist. His fingers play with her shirt. The tears stop. The cries end. He lets himself enjoy the moment. Clementine pushes the scrapbook away, getting in between his legs. One of her arms wraps around his torso, the other on his thigh, holding herself up. Her tongue meets his mouth, something new and unfamiliar for the both of them. Neither of them dislike it. They pull away, a string of saliva between them. They huff as Clem wraps her arms around him. 

He takes off her hat, placing it on top of the scrapbook. He plays with her hair, something he likes to do now when he's nervous or feeling uneasy. She pulls away, holding a finger up. She grabs a colored pencil and a piece of paper, handing it to him. She grabs her hat, placing it on her head.

"Tell me about the people in the scrapbook, if you're comfortable." 

He blinks, having to remember names and what these people were like. He mostly thought of names and faces, not these kids' passions and their personalities. He nods his head, chewing the inside of his cheek. 

He opens up the first page and looks at the first picture before quickly scribbling on the piece of paper. 

He points at someone as Clementine reads, "The first kid's name is Jasper. He immediately got along with Sophie. They both loved art and drew together. He taught her how to paint and she loved it the moment she started."

They continue like this for an hour, with Louis writing little notes on the pages and on a few pieces of paper. He tears up throughout, Clementine gripping his hand and listening. She asks a couple questions throughout, interested in this unfamiliar faces. She has to light a candle when it dark, but she still is interested. 

Though it hurts to speak about those he’s lost, Louis seems to feel better. It’s nice to remember them. While some of them died long ago, they all added to his life in some way. It still stung when they left him. 

The world darkens around them, the only source of light the small bit of moon out and the candle. Clementine lays next to him, eyes heavy and heartbeat slow. Her hat is on the nightstand. Louis holds her hand, feeling her fingers twitch. He listens to her heartbeat, being reminded that she’s alive. The idea of it stopping—he doesn’t want to think about it.

“Can you blow out the candle?” She says, voice quiet and tired.

“Mhmm,” he hums and gets up, blowing it out and then taking his spot again.


End file.
